Far from my first time there, but a special memory for the children. My daughter adapted well to the lack of internet and my son took everything in with his usual curiosity. Even the two leeches that latched on when we went swimming. I don't remember the names he gave them.
Little did I know when we flew home on 23rd July 2019 that it would be more than 2 long years before I would be back. Since 1997, Vietnam has been my go to place for holidays every year and sometimes twicely in a year. It's fair to say that Vietnam has taken a big piece of my heart and every time I go, it takes little piece more. Fair also to say that the pandemic years weren't the best years of my life, but all those close to my heart came through if not unscathed, at least relatively intact. March 22nd 2020, Vietnam closed her doors and the waiting for a chance to return began. It would be 723 days until the doors cracked open. By early 2022, I came to believe that they'd reopen soon after the two year anniversary on 22nd March and that flight prices would rise as airlines tried to refill their coffers. I went ahead and booked my flights for September. Late enough for me to be fairly confident that travel would be possible, soon enough for me be able to get through the wait, near enough harvest time for the rice to have a little tinge of gold. A week out in my prediction, Vietnam reopened on 15th March and the long wait to travel could really begin.
But how to mark this return? My treks around our homestay in Hoàng Su Phì had been fine, but with a child of 7 in tow were of necessity short. Maybe I could trek around a few homestays and listen to the rice along the way. I started plotting homestays on a map.
There are quite a few and hopefully, most are still in business. Just how far could I walk? Ah, it's only 60 km to Nà Chì. I can do that. Well, yes, I'm 67 and it'll be hot. And humid. And a little bit steep here and there. And there's a bit of a 30km gap where there's no homestays. I can do that. What's the worst that can happen?
I first visited Hà Giang in 2011, only 14 years after my first trip to Vietnam. As I said, a slow traveller. I arrived in Hà Giang armed with a copy of Lonely Planet and a phone number for a guide I'd picked up from somewhere. They were out of town, but she gave me the number of another guide who was also away. Finally, I got the number of a local guide who was available. We met, concluded a plan and I spent 8 days travelling the region on the back of his bike. Hà Giang in August is truly beautiful. Beautiful in a way that only Hà Giang in August can be. 2012, and I had to come back. My eldest son was then a bicycle fiend, and we set of to explore the region together. He on his trusty bicycle, me on a motorbike. He would set off early and we would meet up for drinks, lunch, drinks until we rendezvoused at the next place to sleep. Thus we came to Xín Mần again. Last time I'd been there, my guide bumped into a friend and we were invited round for tea. Chúc sức khỏe! Một trăm phần trăm! Glass after glass of rice wine was consumed with the meal. I didn't drink for 2 years after that. And used different guides.
My son was in the habit of setting off at the crack of dawn and I'd have a leisurely breakfast and set off later, catching him up along the way and stopping somewhere for a drink and rest. After breakfast on this day, a thick fog descended reducing visibility to maybe 5 meters. Add in steamed up glasses and I was all but blind. Blind on a motorbike on a wet and bad road surface. This was not good. I called him up. "I'm going to be a while until I get out of the fog. Find somewhere to sit and wait for me". My nightmare continued. Am I being too cautious? A 6 inch drop in the road where repairs were under way gave me the answer. Finally, I emerged from the forest, the fog burned off with the sun and I had the splendour that is the DT178 to soak up as I kept my eyes open for a boy and his bicycle. I call him up to get an idea of where he is. "I'm in Nà Chì. I think we're invited to lunch". I have very poor Vietnamese and, then, my son had next to none. How has he managed to get invited to lunch? I pull up alongside a roadside shack selling drinks through a window. Son had stopped for a drink, and, seeing seats and a table inside, thought, "It's a cafe, not just a shop". He had then settled into their living room to enjoy his drink. Over the time I had been struggling through the fog, he, with next to no Vietnamese, had become firm friends with the couple. A sumptuous vegetarian feast was rustled up and we all left having shared a special moment. Every time I go to Vietnam, I am blessed with the kindness of strangers. The best kind of kindness. And that's why I go.
Over the years, we called in every time we were in the area. Sometimes alone, sometimes my son alone (travelling solo is a family thing), sometimes together. And, on my 2019 trip, me, F13, M7 and my eldest son turned up and had a great time. M7 is a Tiến lên fiend and we had great fun with their boys while Mrs prepared the usual feast. Mr was dispatched to snip some peppers and herbs in the garden, but like many husbands everywhere, not without plenty of advice coming from the kitchen. The original wooden shack was slowly replaced by a much larger concrete house as the years went past, but the open front to the street remained.
So, it seemed to me that Nà Chì would lend purpose to my walking rather than wandering aimlessly wandering through the hills. That's where I will walk to. I have a plan.
On to Part 2
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